


turn the lights off

by dopaminekeeper



Series: brand new world [3]
Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, BDSM, Kink Negotiation, Kink demonstration, Knifeplay, M/M, Non-Sexual Kink, Professional Dom Sangyeon, Sensation Play, Wax Play, also pro dom Q
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28355727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dopaminekeeper/pseuds/dopaminekeeper
Summary: a demonstration scene plants the seed of a desire in juyeon's head
Relationships: Ji Changmin | Q/Lee Sangyeon, Lee Juyeon/Lee Sangyeon
Series: brand new world [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980262
Comments: 16
Kudos: 53





	turn the lights off

**Author's Note:**

> hello! welcome BACK
> 
> this is gonna be a two-parter so buckle in! chapter one contains a changmin/sangyeon (yes, in that order) scene with some 2yeon kink negotiation, while chapter two will be a sangyeon/juyeon follow-up scene. tags will be updated when part 2 is written.
> 
> only warnings for this first part are that there is knifeplay, but no injury, cutting, or bloodplay occurs. this is also a non-sexual kink scene, and no sex occurs in this first chapter!!!

Juyeon can’t breathe.

He’s standing in the audience, the pounding bass distant under his soles of his shoes. Sangyeon gets hired for these monthly club nights, matched up with another pro and set up for demonstrations. Juyeon likes attending if he can, and not always just to watch his boyfriend — neither of them are opposed to Juyeon exploring if he runs into something, or some _one_ , else he wants to try.

Tonight, though, he’s completely absorbed by the image in front of him.

It’s near-impossible to wrap his head around — the way Sangyeon’s spread out on the table, bare-chested, coiled rope binding his wrists together and arms stretched above his head. The scene hasn’t technically started yet, so he’s still talking quietly with Q, his partner for the night, as Q lines up his tools and lights the candles sitting on the low table.

Juyeon’s not a hundred percent sure how he feels about this. Not in a jealousy way, because that would _never_ work, but… it’s _strange,_ seeing the man who takes care of him so well, now powerless and under the care of another. Nonetheless, heat prickles in his stomach with no regard for his internal conflict.

The air in the room shifts as the scene more clearly begins, conversation moving from a low murmur to hushed whispers. Juyeon leans against the wall, trying his best to stay casual.

Running a hand through Sangyeon’s hair, Q speaks so softly it’s near-difficult to hear.

“Ready?”

Sangyeon laughs, fingers flexing and curling. “For you? Never.”

Q shoots him a grin, dragging fingernails down between Sangyeon’s pecs, leaving barely-visible red lines. Juyeon catches the little shiver that runs along his frame, so attuned to Sangyeon’s tells.

“I’ll go easy on you,” Q replies, “since it’s been a while.”

Juyeon sucks in a sharp breath when Q turns and comes back with a glinting blade in his hand, mostly concealed in his palm but visible to their audience and to Sangyeon himself. 

“I got this one brand new, just for you,” he comments, casually running the flat of the blade down the path his fingernails had taken just moments before. “It’s pretty, right?”

“Your whole collection is pretty, Q.” Sangyeon’s voice is steady, if a touch airier than before. “How sharp?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Q teases, skating the blade down the center line of Sangyeon’s torso and back up, a hypnotizing trail. Juyeon can feel himself tensing in sympathy with each pass, breath caught in his chest.

Q continues dragging the knife across Sangyeon’s skin — at times almost contemplative, drawing idle patterns and teasing; at others, pressing the point so hard Juyeon expects the skin to split open. Those times, Sangyeon’s eyes fall shut, his mouth open, cheeks flushed red.

He’s beautiful like this, Juyeon cannot help but think. It’s an objective truth, Sangyeon’s skin golden and beaded with sweat in the low light, lips bitten red and swollen, muscles tensing and flexing at the flashes of pain.

“Should we move onto something more fun?” Q’s question is half-directed to Sangyeon and half to their audience, his deceptively sweet smile underlaid by the sadistic glimmer in his eyes.

“Do I have a choice?” Sangyeon’s got a contented little half-smile on his face, some of his hair sticking to his forehead already.

“Nope!” Q sings, pulling a leather glove onto one hand. “You got yourself into this.”

Juyeon sucks in a gasp as he watches Q pull a different knife from a small bucket on the table. He grasps it lightly in his gloved hand, the frost on the metal making it clear that the blade must have been sitting in ice. With his other, he picks up a delicate little pitcher sitting near the candles.

The slash of Q’s grin is as keen as his knives, and Juyeon can’t help but shudder in sympathetic anticipation.

Sangyeon bites down on a series of sharp curses as Q tilts the pitcher and drips molten-hot wax down his torso, lazy looping circles of deep burgundy up and over the heaving curves of his pecs. His muscles jump with every bright splash of pain. Juyeon winces with him even as arousal builds in his stomach, watching Sangyeon’s throat work as he swallows rough, ragged sounds.

Q gives Sangyeon a moment to catch his breath, the wax cooling on his skin in delicate patterns, but the lull doesn’t last for long. He sets the pitcher back on its hotplate and picks up a candle instead, this one a pretty light blue.

“Careful, now,” Q murmurs, just loud enough for Juyeon to hear.

Without warning, he presses the flat of the frigid knife to Sangyeon’s throat.

“Ah, _fuck,”_ Sangyeon grits out, eyes squeezing shut. Juyeon heart leaps into his own throat, his protective instincts fighting against the knowledge that he’s watching two professionals at work.

“Poor thing,” Q simpers, grinning. “Better keep still this time.”

With the knife still pressed to Sangyeon’s skin, he blows out the candle and drops fresh wax across bare skin.

Sangyeon lets out a shuddering, groaning laugh through the pain, clearly trying his hardest not to move but unable to stay completely still as Q splashes heat over his nipples, all the way down to the thin skin along his hipbones.

“Shit, you’re not playing around,” he huffs, eyes cracking open as Q sets the candle down.

“I never play around,” Q replies, giggling. He pulls the blade away from Sangyeon’s neck and flips it showily between his fingers. To Juyeon’s surprise, he climbs up onto the table, straddling Sangyeon’s waist with a kind of feline grace. “How are you holding up?”

“It hurts.” Sangyeon gives an exaggerated pout, and Juyeon hears a couple of snickers from the audience — he feels a smile of his own crawl onto his face. Q rolls his eyes and slaps Sangyeon’s chest, hard enough to make him wince.

“Fine, _fine,_ I’m good,” he admits with a sheepish grin, “you can keep going.”

Q grins back and, as Juyeon watches, fascinated, he begins the slow and drawn-out process of peeling the wax from Sangyeon’s body.

At times, he uses the blade, scraping with the side and peeling away the perfectly round droplets whole and intact, leaving behind matching red skin. Sangyeon hisses and bites back curses as Q traces the marks with the tip of the knife or digs in with a fingernail, capricious and unpredictable.

He catches Sangyeon completely off guard when he abandons the knife by his side and drags the nails of both hands in long, searing lines down Sangyeon’s torso. Juyeon winces in sympathy at the strangled noise his boyfriend lets out, the way he tries to arch off the table.

“Warn a guy next time,” Sangyeon bites out, and Q just laughs.

“That’s no fun.” Q lands a series of little slaps all up and down the skin he just scratched up, keeping the sting fresh.

Sangyeon’s breathing heavily, eyes half-lidded and lips parted. Juyeon wants to kiss him so badly right now, it’s like physical need. Instead, he clenches his fists and watches.

“Almost done,” Q lilts, working the last big pieces of wax off Sangyeon’s body with his fingernails. “You make such a nice canvas, I wish you’d do this more.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Sangyeon replies, smiling now even as his eyes slip closed, wincing every once in a while as Q hits a sensitive spot or digs in particularly hard.

Juyeon bites his lip, watching their easy rapport, the way Sangyeon leans up into Q’s hands. 

There’s a tangled mess of emotions in his stomach that he needs to work out. Arousal is easy, familiar, burning through him clear and hot and urgent. Fondness, too, because Sangyeon is always exactly himself, even in a situation like this, so far from what should be his comfort zone.

Envy, but it’s not focused in a direction that Juyeon can immediately recognize — it’s not possessiveness, certainly, but he can’t tell if it’s a desire to be in Q’s place or Sangyeon’s or both or neither. He wants to _understand,_ really — wants to crawl inside his boyfriend’s head and really understand why Sangyeon wants this when he’s never shown anything other than a desire to be in control.

He wants to understand, but picturing himself on that table with Q… he’s not sure about that. Not because of Q himself, but Juyeon’s not sure about pain for pain’s sake. Still, there’s something that sticks with him, makes his skin tingle and itch.

Juyeon’s jolted back into awareness as Q climbs off the table, circling around to the head to untie Sangyeon’s arms. It’s quick, the knots simple, and within moments Sangyeon’s sitting up and stretching, wincing and laughing at something Q says too quiet for the audience to hear.

The small crowd begins to filter out now that the scene is clearly over, leaving Sangyeon and Q to debrief. Juyeon watches from the corner as Q pulls out a couple of hot towels from a warmer and holds them to Sangyeon’s chest to loosen the last stubborn pieces of wax that cling to his skin.

All too soon, Juyeon’s the only one left in the room. He pretends to be absorbed in his phone, waiting restlessly until he feels Sangyeon’s hand on his arm.

“Ready to go, babe?” Sangyeon asks with a smile. He’s got a shirt on now, the only remnants of what happened the slight rope-burn around his wrists.

“Yeah,” Juyeon replies, leaning into Sangyeon’s palm when he cups Juyeon’s cheek affectionately.

Sangyeon turns as they move to head out the door. “Changmin-ah, I’ll see you at that expo next month, yeah?”

“Mmhm.” Q waves a hand in their direction, still packing away his knife collection. It looks extensive, from what Juyeon can see of it.

They make their way through the main club floor and out to the parking lot, Sangyeon’s hand warm and reassuring in Juyeon’s own.

The drive home is quiet, uneventful. Sangyeon hums along with the radio as the streetlights cast intermittent shadows on his wrists, knuckles, fingers.

“Do you…” Juyeon starts, then stops. “You never told me you switched.”

Sangyeon looks over, surprised.

“I don’t,” he answers quickly, but seems to reconsider. “Or… it’s complicated. But that, tonight, I wasn’t subbing for Changmin.”

Juyeon stays quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“There’s a difference, for some people,” Sangyeon explains, “between the sensation and the headspace. One can help get you to the other, but for me, I can enjoy the adrenaline and the pain without really getting into the headspace.”

Juyeon nods slowly. “So you like pain, but it’s not… submissive?”

“Mmhm. I let him hurt me, but I wasn’t giving up too much control, mentally.” Sangyeon taps idly on the steering wheel as they pull into the driveway. “And he knew that, too. That’s the important thing.”

It makes sense, in a way, even though Juyeon still can’t imagine being in Sangyeon’s place and not melting away entirely under Q’s relentless hands.

Another thought strikes him, sudden and jarring.

“Would you ever,” and Juyeon swallows, suddenly nervous, “want me to… do that for you?”

Sangyeon looks over again, eyes wide, clearly caught off-guard.

“Do _you_ want to?”

Juyeon bites his lip. He doesn’t _know,_ is the thing. He’s gentle by nature, kind to a fault — at least, that’s what his friends say.

He tries to picture himself hurting Sangyeon. Attempts to put himself in Q’s place with Sangyeon before him, hitting him, or cutting him, making him flinch and cry out and —

“No,” Juyeon says, and it’s a little breathless and a little panicked. “No, I don’t.”

“Hey, hey.” Sangyeon takes Juyeon’s hand, thumb running soothing circles over his knuckles. “It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to do anything.”

Juyeon exhales, shaky. “Okay.”

But days pass and Juyeon can’t stop _thinking_ about it.

He goes to work and he dances. His muscles burn and he thinks about Sangyeon tying him up and keeping him on the edge of knowing where the next burst of touch will land.

He thinks about drops of heat on his skin.

And he’s not completely inexperienced — he’s been dating Sangyeon for six months, it’d be impossible to _not_ be exposed to all matter of strange and intriguing things — but Juyeon had honestly never considered this kind of surrender. He and Sangyeon play with the lights on, with a dynamic that hinges on an open push and pull and seeing each others’ faces, hearing each others’ voices.

What would it be like, to be kept in the dark?

He brings it up to Sangyeon a week after that night at the club, on the couch after dinner.

“What you did with Q,” he says, quiet and a little reluctant despite himself, “I think… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Sangyeon turns to look at him properly, posture relaxed, attention fully focused on Juyeon.

“Are you telling me because you want to try something like that?” he asks, taking Juyeon’s hand in his own. It’s grounding, helps Juyeon collect his thoughts.

“Maybe? I don’t think I want pain like that,” he says, and Sangyeon nods in understanding. “But I think it was the… unpredictability of it. It seemed like a surprise for you every time he did something different.”

Sangyeon hums.

“There are sensations other than pain that we could play with,” he ventures. “If you’d like… we can tie you up and start with a blindfold, yeah? I’ll let you know what we’ll be playing with in advance, but it’ll be a surprise in the moment.”

Juyeon’s throat clicks as he swallows dryly.

“That sounds really good,” he says, shifting to bury his face in Sangyeon’s neck. Sangyeon laughs and draws him closer, arms around his back, warm and solid.

“Well, good,” and Sangyeon presses a kiss to his hair. “This’ll be fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos always appreciated!
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/dopaminekeeper)! 18+ only pls


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